


Resolutions

by Jbee



Series: Gates of Askr: Year Two [6]
Category: Fire Emblem Heroes, Fire Emblem Series
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-05
Updated: 2021-01-05
Packaged: 2021-03-15 01:01:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28555056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jbee/pseuds/Jbee
Summary: The new year has been rung in and it's time for change! Líf tries his best to convince the unlikely heroes he is in charge of to set themselves a goals, and become better heroes of the Order.
Series: Gates of Askr: Year Two [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2038126





	Resolutions

**Author's Note:**

> This story is part of a collection of short stories driven by the FEH Subreddit Weekly Writing Prompts, Jan. 4th, 2021. "Reginn turns on Nidavellir, joining the Order of Heroes."

“Did you complete the New Year’s Resolution assignment that Alfonse gave us before the holidays?” Claude tapped a rolled scroll in the palm of his hand as he strolled beside the summoner. They slowly walked by the entrance to the royal greenhouse. A giant four floor glass structure built into the side of the castle.

“Nope!” Kiran stopped to press her nose up against the glass, trying to peek inside at the variety of plants on the other side. “And because his caravan was delayed in southern Askr, I won’t have to do it! It will be old news by the time he gets back!” Her laughter echoed through the empty corridor, cutting through the quiet morning. “Resolutions are such a pain in the ass anyways! I never know what to write. I just made up something easy last year to get him off my back. Everyone does that.”

“Well, I think they are a good idea!” Claude bit his lip and crossed his arms, leaning against the glass as he tried to contain his smile while he looked down at the summoner. “You should set some goals for yourself, and as your superior officer I insist that you complete it!”

“What?!” Kiran’s mouth gaped open, her nose slowly scrunching up in disgust. “I thought you were cool, Claude!”

Claude chuckled as he turned to leave, gesturing for her to follow his lead. “Come on, we’ll find a quiet corner in the dining hall to work on it together. I don’t want to push you too hard on your first day back on the job!”

“Hey!” Kiran jogged to catch up, her soft soled boots scuffing on the stone floor. “If it’s a business lunch, that means you’re picking up the bill!”

“Deal!” Claude agreed to the summoners demands, their happy banter back and forth becoming quiet as they turned the corner, and disappeared from sight.

“I guess old habits die hard…” Líf murmured to himself in the shadows, looking down at the parchment he held, the same New Year’s Resolution assignment that he would give to his old heroes and David, his original summoner, before the start of the new year. As a newly pointed captain of the Order, he had given this assignment to the heroes he was in charge of last week, now he questioned if it was the right thing to do. The heroes he commanded were not exactly the most well-rounded individuals. He thought this would be a good way to break the ice, and to set them in the right direction. Help them become pillars of the Order, casting away the doubt others might have harbored for them, and him. He had told Kiran change was coming, and he was determined to make that happen.

Líf sneered at the form, crushing the parchment in his hand, and shoving it into the pocket of his cloak as he walked into the quiet greenhouse. The humid air clung and weighed his armour down. Did David hate filling these assignments out too? He thought as he crossed the floor towards the back staircase. A long set of iron stairs hidden behind an assortment of thick brush. The stairs lead down to a lower chamber of the greenhouse. A place few people ever went. The large prickly evergreens towered over the leafy bushes below. Casting a cool, dry shade. The plants here needed little attention. Growing like monstrous wild weeds, clinging to any surface they could reach, claiming the space for their own, and Líf claimed them for himself. This was his space now. Where he gets to set the rules for his own brigade.

He stepped out onto the platform and stood looking out over his small ivy and twig covered kingdom, squeezing the iron bar railing when he noticed the heroes who sat in a small courtyard in the far corner. The first meeting of the year, and his first meeting as their Captain. There was a ping of uncertainty that plagued him in the days leading up to this. These were not Hel’s minions that would blindly follow his word. He would have to win them over. Tap into those social skills he had abandoned long ago. That, or break them until they followed his orders.

The sound of fluttering wings approached from the side, his second in command flew up to greet him from a nearby tree. “Welcome back, Líf.” Plumeria hovered on the other side of the railing. Her bright scarlet eyes mirrored his own. A tell-a-tail sign they were both no longer human. The álfr agreed to work for Líf in exchange of sharing his greenhouse space with her. With all her talents, and… gifts. Plumeria had found refuge with Líf in the greenhouse, an escape from all the glaring, and gawking eyes that looked her way. The exact same reason he came here to begin with.

“Is this it?” Líf was tense as he looked down at the heroes he summoned that morning. A much fewer number than he had invited. They sat chatting among themselves on a few stone benches and some rusted iron garden chairs.

“I’m afraid so.” Plumeria’s eyes shamefully turned downwards. Her hand clutched the railing besides his, as she fluttered precariously in front of him. “I’m sorry, I know you were expecting more heroes to attend.”

“It’s fine.” He waved her off. “Let’s just get this over with.” Líf sighed, as he began descending down the iron stairs two at a time. His heavy armored boots clanging loudly and echoing off the glass walls with each step.

“Well, well, well, it’s about time the Captain graced us with his presence!” A snarky young man with long fiery red hair gave Líf a smart-ass smirk as he leaned back in his chair.

“Do you have somewhere better to be?” Líf walked past Julius without looking in his direction, and headed towards his work station. Líf had a small corner area of the courtyard set up as a makeshift office on a risen deck. An old desk and a few shelves, stacked with tomes and other various glass coloured bottles and dried herbs that Canas brought him.

Julius scoffed, and looked away unable to get the rise he desired from his captain.

“You’re Líf?” Gangrel loudly stated, lifting his eyebrow. His long face twisting into a large jester’s grin as he threw his head back letting out a belly full of maniacal laughter that echoed around the space. “Ba Ha HA! Thought you'd be taller!” He stomped his boots wildly, and held his sides, his shoulders shaking with each cackle.

“Why am I here?” A young man in very festive attire, scowled from the shadows as he leaned against a tree with his arms crossed.

Líf was thrown off, and had to look twice. He didn’t recognize the young man, and turned his back to whisper to Plumeria. “Who is that?”

“Oh, um, that’s Felix Fraldarius.” Plumeria flipped through the stack of assignments she held in her arms, finding the form that belonged to the not-so-jolly young man. “He’s a bit prickly, but not really… one of us.”

“Then why is he here?” Líf looked over his shoulder at Felix, his gaze was returned with a cold sneer.

Plumeria kept her voice low, leaning towards Líf. “Well, the story goes that he took the last steak and cheese pie at the feast.”

“So?” Líf shrugged his shoulders.

“He was standing in front of the summoner in the buffet line.” Plumeria spoke through clenched teeth, and she hesitated as she found the right words to address the situation with the newcomer. “And when the summoner asked if he could share it with her, he took a bite and told her to, “Ask someone else.”

“Oh.” Líf’s eyes widened, and a billow of mist escaped from his mask as he turned back to look at Felix again. “May Askr help him then.” He looked back at Plumeria who nodded in agreement. Líf took the assignments she was holding, and turned to face the heroes that had shown up with their completed forms, clearing his throat before he began to address them. “I wanted to thank you all for putting your best foot forward, and starting this new year off by setting a goal to challenge yourself to make changes for the better –“

“Killing my sister will not be a challenge for me!” Julius cut in, he gave the other heroes a smug smile as he clicked his tongue.

“Is that what you wrote for your resolution?” Líf sneered, sorting through the forms. “That was not the goal of the exercise. You should be trying to better yourself.”

“It will make me feel better!” Julius snapped back, letting out an annoying chuckle after.

“No, not _feel_ better…” Líf pinched the bridge of his nose, and shook his head as he started to regret taking this captain position. “Look, you are under contract with the Order of Heroes now. You should not feel the need to fall back into your old ways.” He dropped the stack of forms on the desk, and walked around to the front of it. “The point of this assignment was to help you shed who you used to be, and try to reinvent yourself during your time here. To become heroes of the Order.”

“A waste of energy!” Freyja huffed, and stood from her stone seat. “Not all of us have brown noses like a certain álfr…” She shot a dirty look towards Plumeria.

Plumeria’s wings drooped, as did the corners of her lips. “Mother?” She sadly whimpered.

“I am not your mother!” Freyja barked back, she picked up her long gnarled wooden staff and pointed it at the young álfr. “My Plumeria would never have turned on me to serve some undead freak!” She spat the last word out of her mouth like it was venom.

“The bovine has a point!” Narcian tossed his silky honey hair, uncrossing and re-crossing his long legs in the other direction.

Freyja spun around to confront the wyvern lord after his remark, her long gown billowing over the floor. “Why you –“

“How can I, Narcian...” The wyvern lord ignored the Queen of Nightmares as she had a fit. “Ever except to hold my head rightfully above the others if I am to follow such weak leadership? The summoner should have beg me to soil my hands, and take over this… this brigade of riff raff!”

“I would rather dream a thousand nightmares and never wake from them than ever follow you!” Freyja raised her staff, readying her body for a transformation.

Narcian was quick to respond by reaching for his axe that leaned on the stone bench behind him, swinging it over his shoulder as he gracefully stood up. “That can be arranged cow!”

“Enough!” Líf pulled Sökkvabekkr from its sheath, the bright violet aura and hum of energy drew the attention of the other heroes and halted any further action. “I am your Captain. You will retake your seats, and you will do as I ask!”

“Make us.” Felix sneered from under his tree. “From what I hear you couldn’t even convince a whole brigade under your command to show up today! General of Hel? Lethal swordsman?” He scoffed and looked away. “What a disappointment!”

Felix’s words cut deep, and rubbed salt in the old wounds that had never healed. Líf felt the bones in his jaw crack under pressure as he clenched his teeth, his eyes burned as they began to lose sight of his new goals, losing himself to his hate once again. _I’m no better than the rest of them, I’ll never change,_ his dark thoughts reminded him. He tightened his grip on his sword, and just as he took a step forward he heard a soft and proper voice call out to him from the staircase.

“Excuse me, Líf?” Eremiya gave him a delicate smile, her piercing violet eyes pulling him back to his senses. “You have a visitor in the castle corridor.”

“A visitor?” Líf questioned the cunning priestess, lowering his weapon. He looked around at the heroes that surrounded him. They were all exchanging worried glances with each other, trying hard to hide how Líf’s outburst startled them. Líf slid Sökkvabekkr back in its sheath, and walked swiftly towards the staircase. “Work on the assignment I gave you, or you will never see the battlefield again.” He warned the heroes as he left the courtyard.

A visitor? Líf wondered as he climbed the stairs. No one ever came to see him. Kiran maybe? But he had overheard her plans this morning. She should be in the dining hall with Claude. Unless, something happened…

Líf felt a sense of dread well up inside his chest. He couldn’t live with himself if something had happened to another one of his summoners! He picked up his pace as he strode across the greenhouse proper and towards the corridor of the castle, the sound of Eremiya's skirts ruffling as she tried to keep up with him.

Líf abruptly stopped when he spotted his guest. If blood had still run through his veins it surely would have ran as cold as ice at that moment. “You may leave us Eremiya.” He quietly whispered to the priestess.

“Of course, my captain.” Eremiya nodded and bowed, exchanging a quick glance towards the visitor with a coy smirk across her face before she left.

“Edzard Mjög Ríkur.” Líf sneered, his eyes becoming narrow slits as he addressed the gentleman in the corridor.

“Oh?! You already know who I am?” Edzard raised an eyebrow, and pulled at the dark fur collar of his thick wool overcoat as he approached Líf. His fine golden hair pulled back in a small ponytail with a burgundy ribbon matching his expensive tailored suit that hugged his thin frame, he reeked of strong perfumes. “Well, I guess that does make sense. You would have had a version of me in your own Askr, no?”

“I don’t have time for… whatever it is that you want.” Líf ignored the man, and turned on his heel to leave. He had no fond memories of Edzard, a son of a wealthy merchant who had family ties to the royal court, and a childhood bully, who knew how to wiggle his way under Líf’s skin.

“Were we not chums in your Askr?” Edzard pouted as he teased, following Líf down the hall.

“No. Just the opposite.” Líf stopped and quickly turned back to Edzard, coming face to face with the man. “In fact, I felt nothing but satisfaction when I watched the minions of Hel rip that smug smile off your face when they invaded the castle.” Líf’s eyes burned a hole into Edzard’s, just like old times, but now… now Líf was no longer a boy to be pushed around, and stood as tall as Edzard. Finally his equal.

“Careful now.” Edzard casually shook off the comment, he didn’t back up, but stood his ground. If Lif scared him, he did not show it. Knowing Edzard, he most likely had his goons stationed nearby. Ready to jump in if anything were to go wrong. “You may be the Queen’s favorite guard hound, but that doesn’t make you immune to facing the crown’s court if something were to happen to a member of the small council.”

Líf scoffed at the thought. Edzard never lived long enough to rise to that station in his Askr. Maybe there was a silver lining to Hel’s invasion after all. “What do you want?” Líf pushed to end this engagement, eager to rid himself from this ghost of his past.

“I want the same thing as you of course.” Edzard gave him a twisted smirk as he answered. “To protect, serve, and bring glory to Askr.”

“I have little interest in the glory of this Askr.” Líf gripped his sword, looking around suspiciously. He never got along with this weasel in his world, and he wasn’t going to start now. “It’s not my position anymore. I work for the summoner here, and her alone.”

“Of course, that’s right, you are little more than a washed up…” Edzard paused, a cruel smile spread across his face as he snickered to himself. “Are you even considered a ‘hero’ of the Order? Being here must be like a slap in the face every day you wake-up. A reminder of your own failures, how you were unable to uphold your vows to the gods. The fact that they trust you to serve our Askr blows my mind.” Edzard dryly chuckled, looking curiously at Líf. “But, what about your Askr? The one you were so pathetically plucked out of by the summoner. What has come of it?”

“A barren wasteland, and nothing more.” Líf coldly informed him. He hated thinking about the world he had abandoned. Rotting away, to be forgotten.

“Ah yes, nothing but empty land and unused gates as far as the eye can see. Or that is at least what I am told. Truly a desolate ruin.” Edzard leaned closer toward Líf, his voice low as he spoke. “Or, a blank canvas?”

Líf’s eyes widened as he heard these words. What was Edzard up to?

Edzard was unable to hide the arrogant grin that crept across his face. “What if I could offer you an opportunity to turn your world around?” He snaked his arm around Líf’s shoulder and placed his hand on the swordsman’s chest plate, continuing his explanation in an excited whisper. “You could return to your Askr, and rebuild it as you see fit! A chance to finally take your rightful place as King of Askr. No! King of Zenith! Would you be interested?”

Líf knocked Edzard’s hand off his chest, and pulled himself from his grip, turning to leave. Nothing good could come of working with Edzard, even if he was intrigued to hear more. Líf stopped, pulling out the parchment he had crushed earlier, and opening it up, rereading his own New Year’s Resolution. ‘ _Become a Hero of the Order._ ’ He snarled at himself, remembering his promise to change, but old habits do die hard, and perhaps this wasn’t the change he foresaw coming for him. Perhaps the change he was meant to undertake was something more? Something… much more! Líf folded the parchment again, and tore it in two, letting the pieces fall to the floor as he turned his attention back to Edzard and his proposition. “I’m listening.”

The End.


End file.
